


Trouble Clef

by conej0s



Category: Adventure Time
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Rock Band, Fluff, Frenemies, M/M, Makeovers, Multi, cake ships it per usual
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-17
Updated: 2015-11-11
Packaged: 2018-03-07 22:16:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3185210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/conej0s/pseuds/conej0s
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Scream Kings are the biggest band in Ooo, with a realm-wide tour to match. The final show of the tour in the Candy Kingdom, though, doesn't go quite as expected...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Rock n' Roll Singer

**Author's Note:**

> AU in which ML tours around and fionna and friends have not met him yet. The band is a gender bend of Marcy’s band in the MATSQ comic subseries. Keila is Kyle, Bongo is Bo, and Guy is Grey. This is an AU, though, so don’t worry if you haven’t read the comics.  
> This fic is a little more self-indulgent than my last one, so if it’s a little impenetrable because of the music lingo or history, I’m sorry.
> 
> Forgive the stupid title, it's the best I could do.
> 
> Chapter name song:  
> https://youtu.be/NpA3q0TQ-GA

**♫**

      Marshall took off his Chucks and sat on the grass. It had been a while since he’d been to the surface world, and he never remembered it as being this beautiful. The sun had just set; the night was young. On the horizon in one direction was a vast set of indigo peaks, and in the other, a forest of pink-leaved trees that stretched from the mountains to the hilly plains. If he squinted, he could see an old mansion in the foothills of the mountains. He wasn’t the sentimental type, but he lavished in the lack of broken down buildings or rivers of toxic waste. It had also been a while since he’d seen the stars. The Nightosphere, being the polluted, unforgiving dimension it was, had no stars. The thick layer of dusty red smog that hung in the atmosphere prevented the viewing of the stars, if there were any. It did not have days and nights. It was always dark, dry and warm. He always wondered if the “hell” he’d heard described in old songs was, in actuality, the human name for the Nightosphere.

      Not that he disliked his home dimension. There was no sun to burn his sensitive skin, and no good little creatures to preach to him. There was only the evil, the ugly, and most importantly, some of the best rock to grace the multiverse. Dwelling in the Nightosphere were the greatest producers, sickest rockers, and the most savory licks known in existence. The demons and ghosts of many musicians from a multitude of dimensions made their deaths in that dimension. Before the Mushroom War, great human musicians would be recruited from the Dead Worlds to continue producing music in the Nightosphere. The result was the purest source of hard sound anyone had ever encountered. Particularly popular in recent millennia were various types of metal, but punk and hard rock in particular were always beloved among vampires.

      Marshall had been dabbling in a few bands as of late, but sought a break, and decided to return to the dimension where he was raised. If someone asked him why he was here, he would say that he was doing something cool, like seeking virgin blood, or reaping the souls of the pure. In actuality, he was hoping to run into one of his old friends, and enjoy the sentimental value of the land and memories he once knew.

      He often wondered what had become of Simone Petrikov. The last time he’d seen her, she was almost too far gone to remember him. It was that tiara she possessed, and the maddening curse it carried. He recalled waking up in one of the many abandoned cars littered about the destroyed city and finding that she was gone. All that was left of Simone was her backpack, and a pair of cracked reading classes.

      Not many years later, he returned to his home dimension, where he stayed for a few centuries, but he always wondered where Simone went, and why.

      Nonetheless, he was sure that she, like most mortals, had drifted to the one of the many Dead Worlds some time ago. He wasn’t unused to mortals moving to Dead Worlds. He had demon friends who visited the souls of their risen friends regularly, but Marshall preferred not to. There were too many worlds, each with way too many people, and he didn’t feel like sifting through them for just one person.

      This was another reason why the Nightosphere was better. Most everyone who dwelled there was deathless; most residents were vampires, demons, and cursed souls. There was the occasional ghost or free soul who was summoned there, or managed to travel there, but many of those were already dead, anyway. No living mortal with a lick of common sense would travel to the Nightosphere. Most of Marshall’s friends were either deathless or already dead, so he didn’t have to worry about the Dead Worlds, or whoever may dwell there. The only exception for him was of course, Simone.

      So, there he sat in the grass on a small hill in the middle of the plains in the land of Ooo. The night sky above was dotted thickly with stars, just as he remembered it. Wispy little clouds floated about near the horizons, as if they didn’t want to impose on the view. The occasional owl or small colony of bats would cross the blanket of stars. Several meters away on a larger hill, there stood a fairly young weeping willow tree. It looked to be about fifty mortal years old, and it was just tall enough to cut into his view of the mountains.

      He stood, picking up his shoes, and ascended into the sky. He decided to relocate. The highest branches of the tree looked like a wonderful perch.

      The flight over was a short one, but as he drew nearer, he saw an object tangled in the roots of the tree. When he got close enough, he found that the object tangled in the tree was a corpse. All of the flesh was eroded away, leaving only bones, and traces of hair. It seemed like the type of thing a metal band would write a song about.

      Having lost interest in the corpse, he flew up to the top of the tree and settled in it. He took in the view, which had slightly changed; the forest of pink trees was closer, and the mountains were more distant. He maneuvered his guitar from his back, and settled his bony fingers on the strings. Normally, a guitar like this wouldn’t sound great unless it was hooked up to an amp, but it was a demonic model. The sound that came from it was not mortal, but magical. Guitars like this were fairly common in the Nightosphere. They came in all shapes, colors, and sizes, and with the right spells and craftsmanship, someone could easily make their own. Marshall often contemplated ditching his current guitar in favor of making one out of his battle axe, but he hadn’t gotten around to it yet. For now, he stuck with the one he had, which was a red Gibson.

      Sleepily, he strummed it.

      He didn’t know how long he’d been playing, but at one point, he saw fireflies dancing off under the pink trees. They were merely faint freckles of light against the darkness of the forest. He wondered if the light was playing tricks, or if the trees were actually pink. He never encountered a pink tree during the few years he lived on the surface. Most trees he encountered were charred and black, with no living leaves. Some were uprooted, other broken and bent. Sometimes, he did see a tree with green leaves, but they were usually far from the ruins of civilization.

      Again, his curiosity was piqued. He retired the guitar to his back, put his shoes on, and descended from the willow, staring off at the pink trees. He lazily floated towards the dancing lights of the fireflies, and the features of the trees became more refined in his night vision. Drawing closer did not make sense of things, though, as individual leaves did not make themselves prominent. The trees, close as they were, still looked soft. Finally, he reached the forest of peculiar trees, and frowned.

      He was standing below one of the trees, close enough to grab a fistful of the “leaves” growing from its limbs. In fact, that’s exactly what he did, and he was alarmed to discover how plush and light and strangely enough, sticky the foliage was. Growing on this tree was not leaves or fruit, but cotton candy. He dropped the clump onto the ground and tried to brush the flecks of sugar off of his hands when his arm began to tickle.

      A particularly friendly firefly landed on his arm. He did a double take when he noticed that the firefly was unlike any he’d seen before; it was an anthropomorphic jelly bean. Confused, he waved it off and continued to wander through the pink overgrowth.

      It wasn’t long before faint lights began to flicker through gaps in the trees, and a clearing opened up ahead. Only a few meters away, he leaned his guitar against a tree and shape-shifted into a bat. He could hear voices, and he could see the outer wall of a kingdom. In the clearing, there was a small kingdom build around the trunk of what appeared to be a massive tree. It was obviously a very newly-settled kingdom, as the path through the woods was not well-worn, and only a few buildings were tall enough to be visible from outside the wall. A moat filled with some kind of red liquid surrounded the settlement, the only means of crossing it on foot appearing to be a drawbridge. This drawbridge was being guarded by some unequivocally strange guards.

      After seeing what he’d seen, he figured that talking bananas were only the tip of the iceberg. He flew over the wall, and into the small but happy-looking kingdom. He passed little houses of gingerbread and marzipan. The path lights were blue candy canes, and the pathway they lined was chocolate. He looked up, and the moon was eclipsed by the leaves of the enormous tree at the center of the kingdom. It was then that he heard a voice.

      This voice was unlike the hushed mumbles of citizens settling in for bed. It was a soft and melodic tenor. He followed his keen bat ears. It was the voice of a musician, so he thought. The sound was not hard to follow and eventually, he could hear the soft sound of instruments playing in the background. The sound brought him to the tallest building in the city; a palace built around the trunk of the tree. Soft light radiated from a balcony a few stories up. He could now tell that it was a record being played, but that somebody was singing along.

      It was a song he actually knew; a very old human song.

      “ _…keep that breathless charm, won’t you please arrange it…_ ” They sang along.

      Marshall’s mom loved this song. He never liked this particular artist or genre, but it was pleasant. He almost wished that the record wasn’t playing, and that the voice of the person singing along was isolated, as he liked it much more than the song itself. He was grateful, though, for the fact that the record was at least soft enough not to overpower the singing.

      “ _…’cause I love you, and the way you look tonight..._ ”

      He couldn’t resist. For whatever reason, his curiosity was besting him this evening. He flapped his little wings until he reached the balcony, and landed on the railing, which was made of peppermint, of course, as quietly as possible. Red curtains hanging in the balcony entrance obstructed his view into the room, but they were not entirely closed. Light poured out from the gap between the two curtains, and he was able to see in.

      “ _…and that laugh that wrinkles your nose, it touches my foolish heart…_ ” Sang a man in a light blue suit. He was standing at a large mirror, adjusting his bowtie. The curtain prevented Marshall from seeing the figure’s face, but he watched pale, rosy hands as they worked gingerly at the silken tie. Oh, how he melted into that voice, impartial as he was to the song. Silently, he willed the figure to step into view.

      “ _…Lovely…_ ” He began again, but he was interrupted by a knock at the door. “Yes?” He called.

      Marshall’s smile faded. _No_ , he begged inwardly, _Forget the knocking and finish the song. Whoever that is can wait._ His fur ruffled as he shifted in annoyance, his tiny claws scraping against the candy railing.

      “May I come in?” A high-pitched, female voice asked from behind the door.

      The suited man walked out of the vampire’s field of vision, and he heard the sound of a door being unlocked and opened. “You most certainly can. What is it, Peppermint?”

      “Some of your guests have arrived early, prince.” Answered the feminine voice. Someone turned off the record player, but Marshall was unsure who. He wanted to assume that it was the newcomer.

      “ _Wunderbar_! Would you mind receiving them for me? These silken ties are difficult to tie into bows.” The prince explained.

      He heard Peppermint click her tongue. “Surely, your majesty. I take it you’re a little nervous, sire? This is your first time hosting the royal meeting.” She paused. “You needn’t be worried. We have prepared a lovely banquet.”

      “I suppose I should be rehearsing my speech instead of singing…” He mumbled sheepishly.

      Peppermint giggled. “That is unnecessary, your majesty. Your speech already sounds wonderful. Singing will calm your nerves.” Marshall heard the shuffling of feet. “Goodness, it is cold in here. Why must you leave all of your windows open?”

      The man chuckled. “I just wanted some fresh air.”

      She walked over to the balcony entrance, and Marshall saw her short, round shadow, cast upon the satin curtains. Peppermint yanked the curtains completely closed, and shut the glass door. Other windows were open, so he could still hear the conversation.

      “Someone could climb in and have their way with you or anything in here!” She closed the last window, and the voices were reduced to mumbling.

      He waited for the prince to open the windows again, and continue singing, but it never happened. Purposeless, he flew out of the strange kingdom, over the walls, and into the woods, where he reunited with his Gibson. It would prove to be a very long time before Marshall would enter the Candy Kingdom again.

### ♫

**752 Years Later**

 

      There was a lot to be done each day.

       Being the prince of the Candy Kingdom was no task to bat an eyelash at. Firstly, there was the ever-present issue of quieting the lemons and seeing to the issues presiding over their kingdom, then the chore of negotiating with the duchesses on such matters. When that was taken care of, the prince then had to review petitions and bills. Usually there would also be some kind of small dispute to tend to, such as funding distribution or problems concerning public transportation. More often than not he would then have a public appearance scheduled at the orphanage or at a formal event. After that, he would retire to his study, and, like clockwork, be kidnapped. A few hours of listening to friend fiction and freezing in a small cell would pass before his friends would come to his aid.

       In keeping with his kind nature, the heroines would be allowed to stay for tea or video games, which was always enjoyable, but only for a little while before he had to return to his duties. After a kind goodbye and possibly some parting sweets, the daily work continued with tax collection and distribution. Immersing himself in a sea of numbers wasn’t ever pleasurable, but he bore in mind that when he finished he would settle down with a nice recipe or book.

       It was then, in the midst of paperwork, that he was approached by his loyal maid.

       “Good evening, Prince. I have some memos for you, if you don’t mind taking them now.” She said softly, but her tone revealed that she was more coming to him with this more out of obligation than anything else, and that she would probably much rather being performing some sort of demonic ritual.

       “Hello” He greeted warmly after a moment’s pause. The prince did not bother to turn around, as he was nearly done with his work. “What do you have for me today, Peppermint Maid?”

       “Let’s see.” He heard the shuffling of papers before she cleared her throat. “The Duchess of Nuts sends her most recent regards.”

       The royal nodded, his gaze still not straying from his desk. Memos generally weren’t very important, so he saw no harm in tuning the candy lady out. What he caught of her announcements were the arrival of a new heir in some far off kingdom, some territory disputes in the fire kingdom, and the latest of many memos from the Lemongrabs. There was likely some other messages as well, but he was focused chiefly on his paperwork. Most of the recently memos were pretty irrelevant, anyway, as Ooo had been in a fairly peaceful, war-free state for the last few years.

When his signature was signed on the very last of his documents, he returned to his attention to Peppermint Maid, who was halfway through the last memo.

       “…seek your permission to host it in the candy kingdom performance hall. Do you accept?” She held an authorization paper out to the prince. It was rather strange for authorization releases to be given to him with the memos. Usually, when releases came with memos, it was considerably minor. Release forms that were even mildly important usually came to him along with business letters and kingdom documents.

       He was a little caught off guard by a question, but composed himself. With a wave of his hand, he answered, “Oh, yes, of course. Is that the last of the memos?” He stood up, finally facing her.

       “Yes, but are you absolutely sure, your highness? It’s unlike you to-“

       He signed the document without reading it. He figured, based on the fact that it was merely half a page and that it wasn’t sealed, that it was casual business. “Nonsense. Why don’t you just take the rest of tonight off? I want you to go out and enjoy yourself. Repaint your stripes, hang out with Death, and uh, just relax, okay?” He began to gently shoo her out of the room, yawning.

       He was exhausted, and sought only to retire to his room for the night. It had been another tiresome day, and all he wanted to do was unwind. He left his study and strolled to his chambers. His room was just as head left it that morning, meticulously clean and organized. He walked into this personal bathroom and turned the bathtub faucet on. The working day was over.

 

**♫**

**Four Months Later**

 

       Prince Gumball was working on his latest work of culinary art when there was an announcement over his intercom.

       “Fionna and Cake are at the door, your highness. Do you wish to invite them in?” echoed the shrill voice of his maid.

       After placing the last of his cupcakes in the oven, he untied his apron and hung it up on one of the tiny, ornate pegs in his private kitchen. It was Friday, one of the few days of the week he had to relax and partake in his favorite hobby; baking. Oh, the smell of cookies in the oven, or sugar caramelizing. In this particular instance, he had finished preparing a handsome batch of red velvet cupcakes, topped with a dollop of strawberry icing and sprinkled with tiny edible hearts, though not all of them had been frosted yet, and some of them had yet to bake and cool. He could not wait to offer his friends and heroines some samples.

       He hastily pressed “start” on the oven before making his way down the stairs and into his foyer, where he received his guests. More than once he nearly slipped on the freshly-waxed candy marble floor, but he still hurried to meet his friends.

       As he walked through the door, he found that his friends were unusually dressed.

       “Hey, Peege! Are you ready for tonight?” Fionna called from across the room. Her hair, which she has recently cut to a more manageable length, was free from her usual bunny hat. In addition, it was ratted and crimped in typical rocker girl fashion. She was also wearing what appeared to be a band t-shirt, and on her wrists were several glowing bracelets.

       Fionna’s companion, Cake, was also decked out, but in her own way. She had shape shifted the fur on her head into liberty spikes, and was wearing a studded collar.

       The prince’s eyebrows furrowed upon noticing the girls’ garb. “Hey guys! What’s the occasion? Did I forget about casual Friday again?” He chuckled.

       Fionna and her familiar exchanged confused glances before Cake spoke up. “You’re kiddin’, right, Gum? It’s the rock concert you’re hosting tonight, remember?”

       “Concert? I don’t remember approving anything like that. What band is it?” The Prince scratched the back of his head, trying to remember when he had given this kind of thing the green light. Rock was never his kind of music. He always preferred classical music or smooth jazz. It was more than a little outlandish to think that he allowed some rock band to perform in his kingdom, and that’s not even factoring in what a mess bands tend to make of things. He may not be up-to-date on the rock scene, but he was more than aware of the damage performers like this did to auditoriums and hotel rooms.

       “You’re sayin’ you don’t even know? It’s the Scream Kings.” Cake punctuated her thought with a little air guitar and head banging.

       Fionna cocked her head. “Yeah, guy! How do you not know about a band you’re hosting? They’re really popular, and they’ve toured all over Ooo. Aren’t you honored that their last gig of the tour is in the Candy Kingdom?”

       “Actually, no, I’m not! I didn’t hear a word about this until just now. If they’re hosting a concert here, it’s without my permission because I did not opt to host this, nor did I ever permit this!” Gumball exclaimed, alarmed by the development.

       The blonde attempted to console the prince, “Hey! It’s okay! I’m sure their manager knows to be gentle to candy people and stuff. They probably won’t do the glitter bombs, demon fireworks, or zombie summoning.”

       “Zombie summoning!?” The prince blurted.

       Cake swished her tail. “Hey Fi, didn’t the manager quit a few weeks ago after some really intense after party? Ms. Pig told me-“

The prince practically stormed out of the castle before Cake could finish her thought, with the adventuress and her cat in tow.

       “What? You’re not gonna call this off, are you, PG?” Fionna objected as she jogged to keep up.

       After a small realization, Gumball slowed to a walk. He didn’t wish to hurt Fionna’s feelings. She did, after all, appear to be quite thrilled about attending the concert, what with the way she dressed up. It would be loathsome of him to rain on her parade and shut down the event. He sighed heavily.

       “No, I’m not going to call the concert off. I just need to speak to whoever’s in charge about this, and why I haven’t any notification.”

       There was only one concert hall in the Kingdom, so the prince was spared the trouble of figuring out where the band was. The Butterscotch Performing Arts Amphitheater was a short walk from the palace; its towering structure was visible from the southern wing of the Royal Estate. It was built a little less than a century ago, to honor the anniversary of the founding of the kingdom. Most performances prior to its establishment would take place in the palace itself, but as the population grew, the prince found a need for a larger venue. Thusly, Butterscotch was built.

       Cake, who had grown impatient, scooped the girl and the royal up and carried them to their destination on her back. “So you’re not going to cancel? For sure?” she questioned, her low voice betraying a hint of annoyance.

       “Of course not,” Gumball answered, disheveled as he tried to balance on the cat’s back. “You guys seem to be excited about it, and as I’ve noticed on the way here, several candy people are as well. I’m just looking to get some answers.”

 

       Within moments, the trio was walking through the entrance to the performance hall, which was already abuzz with activity. Stage hands, candy and non-candy, scurried about the large room. At the helm of the chaos were several order-barking candy people with headsets on, and one annoyed looking gentleman with a sizable afro.

       “What in Ooo is going on here?” The candy heir muttered under his breath after having to dodge a running staff member for the third time before making it to the stage, where afro guy stood.

       After several polite ‘excuse me’s and ‘if I could ask for your attention’s from the pink teenager, the annoyed feline raised her voice.

       “Hey! We’re trying to talk to y’all!” She bellowed through the makeshift megaphone she had shape-shifted her hands into.

       Startled, the clique of directors faced the newcomers. The headset-wearers all had looks that ranged from offended to angry, but when the man with the afro smiled warmly (or when they realized that they were in the company of the prince); their sour looks faded to those of thinly-veiled annoyance.

      “Hey, it’s some fans. How’s it going, guys?” The stranger turned around. He was a vampire with light brown skin and long, pointed ears, and he must not have gotten dressed for the performance yet, as he was only wearing a green t-shirt and a pair of shorts.

      Fionna let out a small noise. “Oh my glob! It’s the lead guitarist. What’s up, Kyle?”

      “Hey ladies, you’re a little early. The concert doesn’t start for another few hours. I wish I could sign something for y’all but I don’t have a pen.”

      The prince was a little steamed about being misgendered, but he cut to the point. “Oh, we’re not here for autographs. You see, I’m the Prince of the Candy Kingdom, and I wish to speak with your manager.”

      Kyle’s eyes widened. “Holy shizam! Hello, royal prince dude!” He said, bowing animatedly. “Thanks for letting us play tonight. Also, we don’t have a manager. He quit three gigs ago.”

      The prince rubbed his temples with his forefingers.

      “Cake was saying something about that!” Fionna chimed in, “What happened?”

      The lead guitarist shrugged. “Band drama. You know how it is.” He tucked his hands into his pockets and turned back to the prince. “But it’s cool, your royal dudeness, I’m essentially the emergency manager. We were late enough in the tour that I had gotten into the swing of things and was able to take over for a few shows. What’s on your mind?”

      “A lot, actually. I just mostly need some assurance that this show won’t be too hard for the candy people to handle. They’re sweet and delicate, and I would hate for something to happen to any of them. You won’t be firing cannons or shooting off fireworks, will you?” Gumball spoke a mile a minute, firing off questions and concerns about the show.

      Kyle chewed his lip. “Nah. We don’t do explosives. Cannons are for the fathers of hard rock, trust me.”

      “Wait,” Cake began, “Where’s the rest of the band, Kyle?”

      “I can only be sure about the keyboardist. Grey is a pretty laid back gal, so she’s probably backstage. As for Bo or Marshall, it’s anyone’s guess.”

      “They’re not trashing people’s property, are they?” Gumball worried aloud.

      Kyle chuckled. “Well, with lead singers, all bets are off, and as for Bo, she’s always been a party animal.”

      The royal narrowed his eyes. “Your lead singer had better not be causing any trouble, sir.” He asserted, “Or he’ll be singing from behind bars.”

      “Gumball!” Fionna snapped.

      “Whoa there, your highness, we need him to play rhythm guitar and sing. We’ll keep him on a short leash, okay? No lead singers are going in the dungeon tonight, dude.”

      “Hey, what’s this about lead singers in the dungeon?”

      Most of the group craned their heads, searching for the source of the comment. Kyle only rolled his eyes.

      Fionna made another noise. “It’s Marshall Lee!” she whispered.

      Walking, or floating rather, towards them was another vampire, this one with powdery blue skin and unkempt black hair that nearly reached his shoulders. Gumball made note of his spiked collar, which was not dissimilar to the one Cake was wearing. He sported a pair of red cowboy boots that made just a little bit too much noise when his feet settled on the ground.

      “Well?” He asked, glancing around, his stare lingering unnervingly on the girl, the cat, and the prince. Though he carried an aura of arrogance when he came to confront the trio, didn’t seem upset or annoyed.

      Daring a look at the girls on either side of him, the candy teenager straightened before offering an answer. “I was just informing your bandmate of my standards regarding this concert.”

      “Standards?” Marshall curled his lip, confused.

      Gumball cleared his throat. “Yes. I intend for there to be as little disturbance as possible. You may be our welcomed guests, but you still have to abide by Candy Kingdom law and city ordinates.”

      “Sure, I guess? This isn’t an armed robbery, man. We’re just gonna play some music and have some fun.” The rhythm guitarist put his hands in his pockets, shrugging.

      “That’s all well and good,” The prince huffed, “Just try not to make too much of a mess, and don’t scare any Candy people. They explode when they’re scared, you know.”

      “Whoa,” Kyle interjected. “Really?”

      The candy boy sighed. “Yes. I’m actually working on-“

      Marshall snorted. “So they just combust? I think I’m going to have to test that theory.” A little green gummy bear was carrying a microphone stand across the stage, and the vampire eyed him mischievously.

      “You will do no such thing, and neither will any of your band mates. You will act accordingly before, during, and after your performance if you wish to play here again.” Gumball chastised, the volume of his voice going up a peg. He was becoming increasingly annoyed with the newcomer.

      The lead singer studied the pink boy before offering a rebuke. “And who are you to order us around like that, Pinky?”

      “Pinky!” The prince exclaimed, his voice cracking.

      Kyle was visibly uncomfortable. “He’s the prince, man. Like, he practically owns this Kingdom.” He whispered.

      A smirk appeared on the blue teen’s face. “What’s a prince to a king?” He joked.

      Fionna was aghast for a moment. “Oh! Burn!” She moved to high five the vampire, but stopped when she saw the look on Gumball’s face. She didn’t fear the candy prince, but she knew not to cross the line, anyway.

      Gumball put his hands on his hips. “I’ll tell you what I am to you! I’m the guy who is letting you perform here, and right now, you and your attitude are about to be thrown out of this kingdom, concert or no concert! I don’t care if you’re the globbing cosmic owl, you’re in my kingdom, surrounded by my subjects, and you’ll act accordingly!”

      When he was finished with his rant, the prince realized how much he had raised his voice, and how much attention it had garnered from those setting up on the stage. He had stooped to yelling at someone else, something that he swore to himself he would never do even if pushed.

      Gumball flushed in embarrassment and anger, hiding his face in his hands.

      The room was silent, save for the occasional walkie-talkie feedback and the sounds of speakers being moved. He could feel all the eyes on him and his friends. The pink teenager noticed that there was one stagehand who dropped and amp on his foot and was holding back tears in favor of maintaining the silence.

      “I’m… really sorry about that. That was very unlike me.” He mumbled through his hands, his tone strained. “Just, don’t cause trouble.” He added resignedly, though he wasn’t sure he was even convinced by his own order.

      When the heir finally gathered the courage to look at the rhythm guitarist, he found that the vampire did not look upset or annoyed. His expression was nothing more than blank. This puzzled the prince quite a bit, as vampires and demons never struck him as being agreeable types. He opened his mouth to speak, but closed it before any words could escape.

      “Yeesh!” Kyle rubbed his arm, his eyes wandering. “Let’s try to keep it friendly here, guys.”

      Marshall avoided eye contact, and Fionna fiddled with the hem of her shirt.

      “Hey Peege,” Fionna began awkwardly after a stretch of silence that felt much longer than it actually was. “Let’s just go back to the castle for now.”

 

**♫**

 

      “What do you mean you want to change the set!?” The lead guitarist stammered in exclamation.

      “Not the set, just the closing song.” Marshall explained, tapping the toe of his shoe on the dressing room floor. “Just to, uh, do something special for the last gig of the tour.” The band was gathered in one of the reasonably sized dressing rooms backstage, chatting about their next performance when the rhythm guitarist suggested a change in the song lineup.

      “Why this song, though? Of all of the old songs you could have picked, you picked this one?” Bo complained. “This is like, a prime slice of Pre-Mushroom War cheese you want us to play here.”

      “So? I wanted to do something cool for the last concert. Y’know, to wrap things up with a surprise.” The vampire king argued.

      “We haven’t done that cover in years!” Bo ranted. “We were still on the nightclub circuit when we last played that one.”

      Grey chewed her lip. “I wasn’t around back then, though. I would have to learn it in just a few hours.”

      “Hey, it’s still a pretty good jam. It’s not like he’s asking us to cover something hard, anyway.” Kyle put in.

      Bo snorted. “I doubt that’s why he wants to play it, though. He probably met some dumb candy babe who asked him to play it for her.”

      “Man,” Grey added, “That adds a whole new meaning to the phrase, ‘sugar daddy’.”

      Everyone in the dressing room, save for Marshall Lee, began to laugh hysterically.

      The half-demon’s reddened face distorted into a frightening scowl, complete with red eyes and extra fangs. “Shut up!” He shrieked inhumanly.

      “That’s how you know I’m right; he gets all angry and flustered.” Bo offered coyly, smirking as she downed another complementary soda.

      “I’ll kill you!” Marshall attempted to grab Bo, but she was a ghost of course, so all he did was pass through her and collide with a rack of outfits. Before he knew it, he was tangled in sequined suits and spandex pants. The sound of the rack hitting the floor caused a metallic crash followed by several swears. The other band members withheld their laughter for fear of Marshall going demon on them, but Bo was very nearly rolling on the ground, howling.

      He began to shape-shift into his giant bat form when Kyle stopped him.

      “Dude, you can’t be doing that in here! Remember what the prince said.” Kyle reoriented the clothing rack and began to hang the clothes back up. The older vampire just sat in the pile of clothes and stewed.

      He scoffed. “Right, okay. Whatever. Are we going to play the song or not?”

      There came no answers, only awkward coughs and shuffles. The band seemed impartial to the idea of having to practice the song with only two hours to go. Sure, they’d done things like this in the past, but after a long tour, nobody really felt up to blowing the rest of their time before the concert practicing a song that they hadn’t even intended to play.

      “Well,” Grey managed after the long span of silence. “We could give it a shot. I don’t see anything wrong with at least trying and seeing where we get. It’s like, a rock cover, right Marshall?”

      “Obviously,” He answered flatly, watching Kyle as he tried to make sense of the pile of outfits.

      Bo folded her tattooed arms, letting out a groan. “Fine, we’ll do it, but don’t expect me to try very hard. Mars, you got the sheet music?” She stared daggers into Marshall

      “Duh. I’m not going to make you guys play a song that we don’t even have the sheet music for.” He leaned back in the pile of costumes, folding his arms behind his head and kicking his feet up. He tried to ignore the itch of a sequin suit rubbing against his neck. He hoped that nobody would think to ask why he had sheet music for a song so far outside of his own genre, or why he happened to have it with him on this particular tour.

      Kyle had given up putting the clothes away for the sake of not having to drag the lead singer out of the pile. He sat back down on one of the stools. “I mean, we used to do this cover a lot. I could probably get back into it. What do you got, Grey?”

      Grey pursed her lips. “I’ve only heard it on the radio a few times. I mean like, the song was recorded by a human artist over a millennium ago, so it doesn’t get much airplay. I’ll give it my best try, but we’re going to have to do a lot of improvising.”

      The lead guitarist addressed the other vampire. “Please, tell me you know how to play this song.”

      He almost said that he knew the song by heart, but decided that saying that might pose a few too many questions. “I’ve got it covered, trust me.” Marshall picked up a red scarf and sank his fangs into it, draining the garment of its color.

**♫**


	2. Swallow My Pride

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fionna and company prepare for the show.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, sorry this took so long. This was actually finished when I posted chapter one, but I didn't feel like editing it until now. better nine months later than never right? Right...

      “I can’t believe we got to meet some of the band members. Marshall Lee is just as sassy as they say he is.” Fionna giggled.

      After returning to the candy castle, the three friends decided to frost cupcakes until the show began. The prince was glad to have the help, but in all honesty, watching Fionna’s unsteady hand at cupcake decorating was maddening for Gumball, and he wasn’t keen on the idea of having to clean up afterwards, either. He kept in mind, though, that it also a pleasure to help her and teach her. Fionna was a patient learner, and she was always improving visibly, but that wasn’t her favorite thing about baking with Gumball. It isn’t hard to guess that she enjoys sampling the sweets the most of anything.

      “Sassiness isn’t exactly a very honorable trait.” The royal commented flatly as he added pinches of sprinkles to each tiny cake.

      Cake busied herself with putting little frosting flowers on some of the cakes. The prince knew that she would much rather be sampling the cupcakes as well, but that she couldn’t as a result of the cupcakes having cocoa in them and her being a cat.

      The cat stretched her hand to Gumball’s for a high five, which was happily reciprocated. “Preach it, Gumball. I wouldn’t give that paste face the time of day. The lead guitarist is where it’s at, anyway.”

      “I know. He strikes me as being skeevy and uncouth and…” he cut himself off, “Okay, it’s not that I don’t like him, I just-“ He stopped when you caught eye of the looks he was being given. “What? Is it unreasonable of me to regard him with distaste after he addressed me such disrespect?”

      Fionna picked up a cupcake and took a sizeable bite of it. “So what you’re sayin’,” she spoke through a mouthful of red velvet cake, “Is that you like him, but you don’t like him?”

      Cake smiled widely at the candy prince, putting her hands on her hips.

      “No, I’m saying that I do not like his poor behavior in my presence. It would be hasty and unreasonable of me to dislike him after just having met him.” The pink boy glared at the cat before pouring some more heart sprinkles into his hand.

      Fionna took another bite of her cupcake. “Hey!” she exclaimed through a mouthful of cupcake, crumbs spraying all over. She swallowed, facing her friends. “You guys, we should totally give some of these to the band. I mean, to make up for the mixup and stuff.”

      “You’re just lookin’ for an excuse to talk to Paste Face again.” Cake said knowingly.

      “So what, Cake? Vampires make up half of their band, and you know how much vampires like red.”

      The prince, surprised by the suggestion, spilled his handful of hearts onto the floor. “Fionna, these cupcakes are for a charity bake sale on Monday. I can’t just hand them out.” He put his hands on his hips.

      “We don’t have to take all of them, just a dozen or so.” Fionna offered.

      Gumball sighed. He motioned to pick up the batch Fionna had just finished icing, but she shooed him back. “C’mon man, my cupcakes are crazy gobbed up. We should take some of yours.”

      The heir had to restrain himself from saying that it was his intent not to waste the best of his batch on those rowdy band members. He pouted. “I wanted to save the nicest ones for the bake sale, Fionna-“

      “Oh, come on, Gumball. You have one of those every two weeks. How often do you have a popular band touring in your kingdom?” Fionna reasoned, giving the prince a nudge with her elbow.

      Gumball chuckled, “Well, almost never, but there’s a reason for that.”

      “Please? It would be really sweet of you.” The blonde gave her best puppy dog face, complete with batting eyelashes.

      He struggled to resist the dreaded look. The prince turned to Fionna’s adoptive sister. “Cake, what do you think?”

      The cat took her time answering. She finished one of the delicate frosting flowers first before offering her opinion. “Why not? You are hosting them, after all.”

      Submitting to the will of his friends, he walked over to the table on which his most handsome cupcakes were cooling, and began to remove some of them from their trays. He placed them gingerly on a pink china plate, taking care not to smear the frosting.

      With all due honesty, he hated the idea of that snarky, big mouthed vampire and his sleazy band enjoy the cupcakes he slaved over. His confections were usually enjoyed by the nobles, aristocrats, and friends of the Candy Kingdom, not a group of rambunctious rockers. Even worse, he considered, was the fact that they probably wouldn’t even eat them. All they would do is drain the dainty little cakes of their red pigment before throwing them away. He loathed thinking about it as much as he was, but for him, baking was an art, and these cupcakes were newly finished masterpieces.

      Some of these thoughts must have shown on his face, because when Cake approached him, she looked more than concerned.

      “Gum, you look like you’re about to hand off a bunch of newborn kittens to a horde of zombies.” The she-cat commented.

      He blinked, refocusing on Cake. “I do?”

      “C’mon honey, it isn’t that hard to just give a dozen cupcakes to those guys. After all, I bet they worked just as hard on getting ready for tonight as you did on your sweets.” Cake’s arm branched off into several more, and she used the new limbs to speed up the process of relocating cupcakes. She was finished within seconds, placing a glass cover over the dish of cupcakes.

      The candy heir considered this for a moment. He thought of all the work that must go into practicing for the songs and preparing for the show. Perhaps it wouldn’t be unreasonable to offer some of his baking.

      He sighed. “I suppose you are right.”

      “Great!” Fionna skipped over and grabbed the covered plate.

      The prince did a double take. “Wait, what? You want to leave to do this now? Fionna, you haven’t finished icing half of your cupcakes!”

      Her button nose wrinkled as she snorted. “Are you sure you really want me to frost any more of your cupcakes?”

      His eyes flicked to Fionna’s tray of half plain, half frosted cupcakes, and he winced. To Gumball’s dismay, there was more frosting on the tray, the table, and probably in Fionna’s hair than there was on the cupcakes. There was no denying that he would take pleasure in finishing the job himself.

      “See what I mean?” The blonde argued as Cake jumped out one of the large, open windows, growing large enough to compensate for the distance between the window and the ground.

      “Well, yes, but-“the royal began uselessly.

      Cake wrapped her tail around the prince and sat him on her back, following suit with Fionna. The cat pounced over the courtyard fence and started her way over to the concert hall, which was growing busier and busier by the minute. The sun was beginning to set, and the candy streetlights began to glow.

      The pink teenager wasn’t too fond of riding on the shape-shifter’s back, chiefly because of how rough her movements were. He was used to the melodic flying of Lord Monochromicorn, but to his misfortune, the unicorn was visiting with his family on this particular weekend. More than once he felt the need to reach around Fionna to steady the bobbing plate of cupcakes. In doing this, he did not fail to make note of the little drops of pink frosting in the girl’s otherwise flawless hair. He suspected that Cake had laboriously washed, brushed, and styled Fionna’s hair before they arrived at his castle, and felt bad for allowing her to muss her hair with sticky frosting. He spent the rest of the trip riding awkwardly behind Fionna, alternating between trying to steady himself and trying to steady the cupcakes in his friend’s arms. He was more than glad when the trio made it to the amphitheatre entrance.

      This time, Gumball and his friends had to navigate through a thin crowd to make it to the stage. He figured that these were fans that had shown up to the show early, hoping to get there before things got busy, or get some autographs from the musicians.

      The musicians, however, were nowhere to be seen. Even Kyle was gone among the flurry of crew members, stage hands, and shouting directors. The stage also had some new additions. Several burly demons with under bites and large, menacing horns now populated the stage, seeming to do little more than stand around with their arms folded or fists balled. Cigarettes, something that the prince had not seen outside of movies, hung from some the creatures’ mouths or thick claws.

      Within a second of the three friends stepping onto the stage, they were confronted by one of the frightening beasts.

      “Are y’all authorized to be up here? I’m gonna need to see some passes or crew tags before you can go any further.”

      Prince Gumball frowned. “I do not have either of those things, but I can assure you that I have sufficient rights to pass.” He answered, feeling uneasy. This particular demon was dark brown with black spots peppering his body, and big, yellow teeth protruding from his mouth. He stood at what the prince estimated to be seven or eight feet, and great, tall spikes sprouted from his hunched back.

      “You’re not comin’ through ‘till I see a pass.” The towering figure asserted.

Cake stepped in front of the pink boy, stretching her legs to speak at eye level with the brute. “Hey, he can come up here. He’s the prince of the candy kingdom.”

       The demon looked unimpressed. “I don’t care if he’s Glob himself, he ain’t goin’ through me without a pass.”

       The spotted feline grew her arms and legs, filling out with thick muscles. In response, the demon raised his fists.

       “Are you lookin’ for a fight, ma’am?” The man snarled.

       The two were about to go at it when a tiny gumdrop man walked over, calling to the angry demon.

      “Oi! Bruce!” The gumdrop bellowed, clipboard in hand. The little creature looked displeased, sugar falling from one of his arms as he waved it in an attempt to grab the huge creature’s attention.

      Reluctantly, the beefy monster lowered its fists, but his eyes stayed firmly on his opponent. “What is it, Frank?”

      “Leave these three alone. They’re permitted.” The gumdrop pointed to the trio before waving Bruce away. “Prince Gumball’s in charge around here, and these are his loyal knights, Fionna and Cake. They ain’t gonna do nothin’ wrong.”

      The tall bouncer grunted before stepping aside, allowing the heir and his friends to pass. From there, they made their way backstage, and soon enough, they stood in front of the band’s dressing room door. Muffled music could be heard through the walls, and Gumball could have sworn he knew the song being played on the other side of the door.

      Standing beside this door was another bouncer, this one more menacing than any they’d encountered before. He must have been some kind of half-dragon, as he was plated in a layer of thick, tattered, black and indigo scales. On either side of the thick row of sharp spikes trailing down his back were two charred wings. He had a thick, muscular tail with a spiked club on the end. His head was covered with torn frills and long horns.

      He stood, stoic with a cigarette in his maw, and at first, only his eyes moved. “What business do you got here?” He spoke in a deep, gravelly voice.

      The prince head behind his feline friend, who answered unsurely, “We’re allowed to be here. H-he’s the prince, and she and I are knights.”

      “Yes,” The royal began, regaining a note of confidence. “We are permitted here.”

      A low, villainous chuckle came from the shady character. “You can say all you want; I’m not authorized to let anyone through this door, dollface.” The scaly demon said, his gnarly, scarred face only inches from the prince’s.

      The combination of disgust and fear that was stricken into the prince by the demon’s rank breath and his threatening assurance was evident on the boy’s face. “Whelp,” the pink boy said, turning on his heel and starting to walk away. “Better luck next time, guys.”

      “Gumball!” The girl and the cat scolded in unison.

      The candy royal faced his friends, waving his arms wildly. “I’m not going through this guy for this. We can’t fight him, don’t you see? If we put this guy in the hospital,” to emphasize his point, the prince pointed to the laughing guard, “And trust me, they could,” The demon frowned. “We’ll be banned from the show altogether. If he says no one passes, no one passes.”

      “We’re not leaving.” Cake declared.

      “Maybe the guard could give them the cupcakes.” suggested Fionna.

      The prince shot a glare at the beastly bouncer, and took the plate of cupcakes from Fionna. “And let him take credit for my work? By no means will I allow that!”

      “I don’t want credit for your girly little cupcakes!” The draconic creature bellowed. “And what can a bunch of little mortal pansies do to me?”

      Fionna, Cake, Gumball, and the guard soon began to argue, and they must have gotten quite loud, for when Cake raised her voice, the door opened.

      “What’s all this yelling about? We can’t rehearse with a bunch of idiots fighting in the-“Marshall Lee stopped, mid-sentence.

      His question went almost completely ignored, however, as more and more disgruntled body guards, bouncers, and roadies flocked to the source of the disruption.

♫

 

      The vampire could not believe what he had opened the door to. It was the three fans (he uses this term loosely) from earlier that afternoon, two of which were poised to attack one of the band’s bodyguards, the other trying to pull the blonde one away while balancing a plate of sweets on his other hand. Several stage hands and directors had already begun to swarm to the scene, and there was more than a little yelling occurring.

      It wasn’t long before chaos ensued. The dragon began to whip his tail furiously about the advancing knights, the prince and some of the stage hands trying to hold the two back. Supervisors attempted to talk the demon down, only to scarcely dodge being mashed into pancakes by his meaty fists. Bruce and the other bouncers seemed more invested in spectating smugly than helping the situation, cheering every time someone would get a fist the jaw or a kick to their gut. Others working on the show mulled about helplessly, barking into their headsets and walkie-talkies.

      He rolled his eyes, stepped out of the door, and let out an ear-piercing, demonic wail.

      Everyone in the now crowded hallway froze in the vampire’s wake.

      “What the heck is going on here?” Marshall demanded when he had their attention. The other band members poked their heads through the door to investigate.

      “My friends have… cupcakes… for the band.” The prince puffed from his position. Currently, he was pinned to the ground by one of the guard’s massive hands.

      The undead teenager curled his lip, his face twisting with confusion. “So let me get this straight. You guys tried to go through our angriest, scariest, most ruthless bouncer on our crew,” he wondered, “Just so you could give me and the band a batch of cupcakes?”

      “I suppose so.” Gumball spat, still grasping the cupcakes with his remaining willpower.

      The blonde and the cat nodded. “Hey, that’s just how Fionna and I operate. We’re keepin’ you on you toes. Bubs made these cupcakes, and we wanted to give ‘em to ya’.”

      Marshall flushed and floated over to where the candy heir was lying on the ground. The scaled brute had released his grip on the young royal, and the boy was now just lying there pitifully. He was still grasping the batch of cupcakes, his knuckles paling. The vampire’s eyes lingered on those hands; pale and rosy.

      “If these cupcakes aren’t crazy wicked, I’m going to be pretty annoyed.” The undead boy threatened, though he didn’t really mean it. He removed the glass cover on the plate of homemade desserts and picked one up. Slowly he placed the lid back over the rest of the batch and examined the cake in his hand.

      The cat emerged from the pile of people, brushing her knees. “Those cupcakes are the greatest things I’ll never eat.” When the vampire frowned, the cat hastily added, “’Cause, y’know, I’m a cat. I can’t eat chocolate. They’re wonderful, though, I promise. Gumball put a lot of effort into makin’ those, too, so you’d better eat ‘em.”

      “Did he, now?” Marshall smirked at the thought of the stuffy prince baking cupcakes for him, and lavished in the idea of starting a food fight with the cupcakes, just to see the look on the prince’s sweet little face. He held the treat with his thumb and forefinger, studying it. It had pink frosting, and little heart-shaped sprinkles.

      Fionna looked at the half-demon excitedly. “Yeah! They’re homemade, so they’re sweet and awesome and full of love and stuff!”

      “Uh-huh.” He answered.

      Prince Gumball drummed his fingers on the ground. “Oh, for the love of glob, just eat it already!”

      The lead singer smirked. He wasn’t actually examining the cupcake anymore; he just liked watching the prince and his friends squirm as they watched in anticipation. He made note of the treat’s variety. “Aw, they’re red velvet. How did you know it was my favorite?” He bent down and pinched the heir’s cheek.

      “Please, just eat it and take the rest so that I can leave.” Gumball begged.

      “Alright, fine.” He sank his fangs into the treat, and the color melted away. This shade tasted surprisingly light and sweet, in stark contrast with the dark maroon the color appeared as. He didn’t normally like the sweeter tones, but this one agreed well with his palette. It made him curious about what the actual cupcake tasted like, but his taste for mortal food faded long ago, when he was turned. He always figured, however, that red sampled from food still carried some of the flavor of the item it came from. To be honest, the idea of another sounded pretty nice.

      He detected a note of disappointment on the faces of the royal and the cat. “What?” He dusted the cupcake crumbs off on his pants.

      The pink teenager opened his mouth to speak, but his feline friend beat him to an explanation. “Aren’t you going to actually eat it?”

      “Ah,” He cleared his throat, feeling a little guilty. He tried to look aloof. “I don’t really eat mortal food anymore, but the color’s still pretty great. Thanks, you guys. They’re actually really awesome.” He kneeled and took the platter from the prince. He could’ve sworn he felt those rosy fingers brush his own, and flushed lightly.

      “The business card for The Candy Kingdom Bimonthly Bake Sale Committee is in there.” The prince noted unnecessarily, straightening his crooked crown as he stood.

      The vampire remembered that half of the stage crew was still lingering. He frowned as his gaze panned over their gawking faces. “What are all of you idiots still doing here? The show is only a few hours off, and I’m pretty sure there aren’t supposed to be strip lights on the ground.”

      “Should I throw these squatters out now or what?” The dragon thug asked, gesturing to Fionna and company.

      Marshall absently finger-combed his unruly, black hair. This song wasn’t going to rehearse itself, and he didn’t really want a bunch of people standing around distracting him, especially Gumball.  “Well, we gotta get ready for the show. I don’t know.”

      “We would be happy to oblige, so long as we are escorted, not thrown, out.” The prince declared, smoothing his shirt and pants.

      The blonde frowned. “Aw, what? Can’t we watch you guys practice?”

      The vampire curled his lip. “Man, don’t make this hard, girl. It’s pretty cramped in there. All you’re gonna miss is a bunch of arguing.” He didn’t want a bunch of brown nosers spoiling their finisher tonight, cute as they were. “Y’all got tickets, right?”

      “Yeah we do!” The two girls exclaimed excitedly. Fionna flicked a pair of glossy paper tickets out of her backpack. She high-fived her cat familiar.

      “Front row, baby!” Cake agreed, flicking her bushy tail.

      He looked to Gumball, who was shifting his weight uncomfortably. “Yo, Princey, you got other plans?” Marshall pressed, eyeing the other boy.

      He folded his arms, looking put on the spot. “I’m a very busy man. As much as I would love to watch your performance, I have a few obligations his evening. To be perfectly concise, no, I don’t have a ticket.” He stared down at his maroon dress shoes.

      Inwardly, Marshall felt a little put out. Maybe he should cancel that closing song. It was a long shot, anyway, with only a few hours to practice it. It was supposed to be special. If only that bratty little prince understood. What was the likelihood of this guy even being who Marshall thought he was? He could just be a lookalike, or a grandson, he thought sourly.

      “Pfft, no you don’t.” Fionna teased, poking her friend’s cheek with her finger. He waved her away, but she continued. “You’re just gonna make cupcakes and knit, grandma.”

      His pink face grew red, and his eyebrows furrowed. “I-It’s not my genre of music, anyway.” he defended pitifully, not necessarily rejecting their accusation.

      “Peege, that’s so lame of you! They’re preforming in your flubbin’ kingdom! Stop being such a nerd!” She chastised, putting her hands on her hips.

      Marshall thought carefully about what he was going to say next. Maybe there was some way he could sweeten the deal-- pun intended. Though he began to doubt, he was still convinced by this guy was who he thought he was. He shooed the girl aside and put on his best grin; the one that made the female fans throw their dainties on the stage. “I guess my band isn’t worthy of his royal highness. That’s fine. We’re just a bunch of dirtbag demons. But uh-” Marshall darted into his dressing room, where he left the platter of cakes and returned with another glossy ticket. “Feel free to drop in.” He pried one of Gumball’s arms away from his chest and took one hand into his. He forced the ticket into that soft, royal palm. His eyes bore into Gumball’s.

      When the vampire released the prince’s hand, he just stood there, studying the ticket in it. “That was… very kind of you. I will consider it.” He said, his cheeks coloring slightly. Finally, he tucked the piece of paper into one of the pockets on his slacks, gathering himself. “Come on, guys. Let’s.. uh.. try to salvage that last batch of cupcakes.” He looked at Fionna, raising an eyebrow.

      She snorted. “I dunno, man. I think I did a pretty good job.”

      Marshall smiled and beckoned the dragon thug. “Hey Shank, lead these guys out. We’ve got a show to get ready for.”

      “You got it, boss.” Shank grunted in response.

      Marshall stood and stared off blankly as the trio left, followed by the burly bouncer. They disappeared down the hall, off backstage. His hope was rekindled. Maybe the closing son was going to be worth it.

      “Hey Mars! You’re holdin’ us all up.” He heard Bo call.

      He rolled his eyes and made his way back to the dressing room. “Yeah, yeah. I’m comin’.”

♫

      “Oh my god, you have to go, Peegies.” The adventurer insisted on the walk back to the castle.

      Gumball still didn’t know what to make of what happened. On one hand, the Scream Kings and their lead singer represented everything he hated about the world. They were loud, defiant, and vulgar. They didn’t care about what anybody else thought or said, and their egos were vastly overinflated. Why did Marshall Lee just hand him a free ticket? The only way he could think to explain it was bribery. That delinquent must have known that having him appear at the concert would further attendance! He was not going to be bested by hollow flattery. If anything, this ticket, this, shallow gift, only further convinced him not to attend.

      At the same time, though, something in him was telling him to go. It was that small part of him that longs for adventure, he supposed. Maybe it was his curiosity, or the part of him that was still a rebellious teenager, but he could feel an invisible force, imploring him to spend the evening at that stadium. He kind of liked the idea of giving in and being a little wild for a night. It wasn’t the kind of thing he allowed himself to do very often. The more he left this drop of doubt bleed into him, the more romantic and fun a night at a rock concert sounded. Don’t knock it till you try it, right? That’s what Cake always said, at least.

      The conflict continued to wage inside of him. He withdrew the ticket from his pocket. “I’m unsure.” he answered finally.

      “How can you be unsure?” Cake demanded. “You can’t just sit around instead of goin’ when the band gave you a ticket!” The fur on her neck rose.

      Fionna grabbed the ticket from Gumball, holding it out for both him and Cake to see. “And look! It’s not just a normal ticket! It’s a front row ticket! People would sell their souls to Death for one of these.” She gushed.

      “How’d you guys get yours, then?” The prince inquired, raising an eyebrow.

      “We gots connections, Prums.” Fionna answered, snapping her fingers and winking.

      Cake chuckled. “This guy who owns a guitar shop in the cloud kingdom was struck by gang of karate-kickin’ water elementals.” She gestured wildly, acting out everything other thing she said. “We whooped their butts and got him his stuff back, and bam! We got tickets.”

      The prince felt guilty. “Really? Aw geez, you guys had to go through all that trouble for yours, whereas I didn’t even want mine.”

      “Yeah! And then here’s Marshall himself, handin’ you a free front-row ticket, and you’re turning it down, ya dingus!” Fionna punched him lightly on the shoulder.

      He pouted. “Come on, you guys! Don’t make me feel all bad about it.”

      “Gum, don’t be a wet blanket.” Cake begged, giving him a coy look.

      He sighed, catching his breath. “I’m just so divided on this. Don’t you think it’s strange that he just up and offered me a free ticket? It sounds fun, but I can’t help but wonder what his intentions are.”

      “Well, you gave him a whole mess of trouble. Maybe it’s his way of quieting you down.” Cake commented offhandedly, kicking a discarded can out of her path.

      Gumball stopped and turned to Cake, unsure if he should be offended. “Are you suggesting that he gave me a ticket just to pacify me? If anything, I’m letting him have his concert as a means of shutting him up! I am not some kind of nuisance that won’t go away until he gets what he wants.”

      “Well, you are kinda, um…” Fionna began, drawing circles on the ground with the toe of her shoe.

      “‘Kinda’ what?” The prince demanded.

      “You’re kinda bossy, PG.” She admitted. “Don’t get me wrong, though! I don’t think he gave you the ticket just to shut you up. I mean, if he really wanted you out of his hair, wouldn’t giving you tickets be the last thing he’d think of?”

      He frowned, but resumed walking. “What other reason would he have to do that, though? He doesn’t quite strike me as being the generous kind. I suspect that he only wants me there for his public reputation. Having the leader of a kingdom attend your show is certainly nothing to bat an eyelash at.”

      “Pfft, I doubt he cares about that. His genre is all about going against rules and ‘the system’.” She air-quoted. “I think that catering to princes and queens and stuff would hurt his rep more than it would help it.”

      The cat’s tail flicked a few times. “Well, I know a thing or two about musicians. I’ve seen how they operate, and what they like. I can think of one reason why he’d just hand you a ticket, even after all the trouble you gave him.” She side-eyed Gumball coyly, raising an eyebrow.

      “What do you-” He began, trailing off almost immediately. His entire face reddened. “Augh! Cake, have some decorum!”

      She laughed. “I’m probably right, though!”

      Fionna ran her fingers through her hair a few times. “Right about what, Cake?”

      Warmly, she chuckled. “Well, I suppose you’re old enough. Okay, so sometimes-”

      “This is not a discussion I wish to be present for.” The prince asserted, glaring down at his cat friend, blushing furiously. “My goodness, how I hope you are wrong. Ugh, how animalistic and perverse!”

      “Gumball! What is she talking about?” Fionna dug, staring daggers into him. “Is it something pervy?”

      He folded his arms and puffed out his cheeks in an exasperated sigh. “I’ve had enough of this depravity. Let’s change the subject.”

      Nobody really knew what to change the subject to, so the rest of the walk was relatively quiet, save for the click of Gumball’s heeled shoes on the candy cobblestone street. The sun was sinking slowly in the pinkening evening sky, into the towering mountains of the Ice Kingdom in the distance. The air was heavy with warmth and moisture, as it was monsoon season.

      After returning to the castle, the trio spent quite a while just killing time. They redid the icing on the last batch of cupcakes, and Gumball managed to actually teach his blonde friend a thing or two about the art of cake decorating. The batch was salvageable, he supposed, but he was debating inwardly whether or not he should sell them along with the others. Then again, it would be disrespectful to his friend to devalue her work. After all, it wasn’t as though she was an expert at it, or that it was her passion like it was his. She liked it primarily because of all the sampling she got to do.

      There wasn’t really much to do after they finished cake-decorating besides chewing the fat and playing video games, so they retired to the castle rec room to play Zombie Crusaders II. It wasn’t Gumball’s favorite game, but it was one of Cake’s favorites, so he was more than willing to sit down and join them for a few rounds. Something about mowing down hordes of reanimated corpses struck the prince as being a touch misanthropic. He always preferred platformers, but most of those were single player, so he had to settle when his friends visited.

      The trio had been struggling for a little while to beat Round Eleven. After having lost all of her lives, Fionna’s section of the screen went black. She set down her controller and turned to him.

      “So uh, are you planning on seeing a rock concert like that?” She asked, uncrossing her legs.

      Gumball was still immersed in the game. “What do you mean?” His character’s weapon ran out of ammunition and he had only one life left, so things weren’t looking good.

      Fionna finger-combed her hair, attempting to get rid of some of the remaining dried frosting chunks. “Well, you’re all silk and wool and lace,” She articulated, “When rock concerts are all leather and studs.”

      A zombie cropped up out of nowhere behind him, and before he had time to react, his screen went dark. Frustrated, he set his controller down and faced the blonde. “I don’t think I own any leather, Fionna. I think I will just go as I'm currently dressed.”

      Cake paused the game and looked up excitedly. “Ooh! I love a good makeover. You don’t gotta own any. I know the perfect place to find you an outfit.”

      The girl frowned. “Ugh, it’s not a makeover. We’re just going to make him look cool. Besides, where is this place?”

      The cat smiled. “I’m friends with one of the actresses in the royal theatre troupe. She’ll hook me up.”

      “Whoa, slow down now, guys. I didn’t agree to any of this just yet. I told you, what I'm wearing is fine.” Gumball objected. He thought his dress shirt and sweater looked just fine for any occasion. It was casual, but the outfit still had class. It was a bit of a change from his usual pink suit, which he liked from time to time. It was his all-purpose garb.

      But curse them, the girls were very persuasive, and before he knew it, the three of them were standing at the door to the Royal Theater. For what, the prince did not know. Many a wonderful play and musical had been performed in those ornate halls. The Candy Kingdom Royal Acting Company was among the most esteemed acting troupes in all of Ooo. Gumball prided himself on being their patron and ruler of their homelands. He glanced up at his favorite seat in the theatre; an elevated balcony towards the back. He liked being able to survey the audience and the entire stage from a far vantage point.

      Cake led him and Fionna through the aisles of seats, and into the doors to the backstage, where the dressing room doors were lined up in a short hallway. Her tail swished as she hurried to the door marked, costumes and threw the door open.

      Fionna, noticing Gumball’s look of confusion, explained. “Cake and I get all sorts of stuff from here. They’ve got everything from gorilla suits to tutus to the spiked collars we’re wearing now.”

      Gumball hesitantly followed his friends into the large room. “i don’t know how good of an idea this is. What if the actors can’t find their costumes on performances?”

      “We usually put it back,” The blonde answered sheepishly.

      The prince glanced around at the racks upon racks of colorful costumes, accessories, and props. He recognized some of the costumes from shows he had attended or read about in the news. Though he could hear her rifling through the rack, Cake was nowhere to be seen in the labyrinth of sequins and spandex they stood in. The prospect of wearing clothes from here was rather intimidating, as everything in the dusty room was some permutation of bizarre, flashy, or tight. In one direction, he saw racks of glittery leisure suits and animal costumes, and in the other, he saw ballgowns and catsuits in every color of the rainbow. As Fionna hurried to the other end of the room to rummage through what sounded like drawers full of marbles, Gumball couldn’t bring himself to do anything more than stare in bewilderment at all of the bizarre fashions that surrounded him.

      “Hey Fi!” Cake called from somewhere in the sea of costumes, “Whaddya got?”

      “Ooh, just wait till you see ‘em. This is gonna look so punk rock.” The girl shouted back.

      Suddenly, Cake turned a corner, nearly running into the prince. His eyes widened when he found that in her arms was a pile of spandex, black, and leather. She glanced around the stack of clothing at him. “You are gonna look so cute, Gumball.”

      He pursed his lips. “I’m having second thoughts about this. Are you sure what I’m wearing now isn’t okay?”

      “Don’t you wanna match us? C’mon Prince, nobody wears a sweatervest to a rock concert.” The cat pushed past him, gesturing him to follow as she walked towards the exit. “Hurry up girl!” She hollered at her sister, “We gotta get outta here before someone catches us.”

      The clicking of her little black mary janes could be heard as she scrambled through the maze of clothing racks.

      When she resurfaced, Gumball cringed visibly. Instead of a bunch of leather jackets and spandex pants in her arms, she had a tangle of spiked leather jewelry and- the prince could hardly stand to look at it- a pair of knee-high black boots.

      “Let’s get you back to the castle and see what we can do with you.” The calico encouraged excitedly.

      Suffice to say, he was petrified. “I need to stop letting you guys talk me into everything.”

 ****  
♫

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter name song:  
> https://youtu.be/TnrNV_7qc5M?list=PL2944A2C4F8BE94F4

**Author's Note:**

> This one has been in the works for over a year now. I originally wanted this to be a really long oneshot, but I didn't expect to hit 12k words at the halfway point, so i'm breaking it up into chapters. Writing this has been quite the process simply because of all the revisions that went into it. The first chunk of this didn't even exist until I decided to change the song the Scream Kings cover. I'll elaborate more on that in next chapters notes, so as not to spoil anything.
> 
> So help me, I *will* finish this. when I started, I elected to finish it before I began posting the chapters, but I needed a means of encouraging myself to finish it, so i'm posting a chapter now.
> 
> Also, yes, the chapter names are song titles because I am shit at titles.


End file.
